She felt sick to her stomach because Norm Lavigne looked a lot like Patrick, and vice versa. Lavigne had a longish face with a pointed chin but his front teeth protruded slightly, an overbite that wouldn’t require correction and so never got one. He had smallish blue eyes set close together, with a long nose just like Patrick, except he didn’t have any freckles. His hair was a shade darker than Patrick’s, medium brown and cut in shaggy layers around his ears, which contributed to a vaguely organic vibe created by his work shirt and jeans. He had on a leather bracelet with his runner’s watch.
His wife, Amanda, looked about the same age, maybe thirty-something, and she was pretty, with a sweet, if uncomfortable, smile. Her greenish-hazel eyes were set far apart with only light makeup, and she had a small nose and a mouth shaped like a Cupid’s bow. Her hair was dark blonde and long enough to cover her shoulders, and she had on a blue handknit sweater with oversized loops. In other circumstances, Mary would have asked her where she bought it.
John gestured Mary into the seat catty-corner to him and waited for her to sit down until he took his seat at the head of the table. The Lavignes sat on the one side of the table, behind a manila folder that was closed, and Lou sat down next to Mary, who realized that everyone had lined up into Us and Them, which was exactly how she felt.
John cleared his throat. “So, Norm, I’m representing Mary, and the best way to proceed is for me to ask you a couple of questions. Could you explain how we got here?”
“Sure.” Lavigne turned to Mary. “Mary, before I go into it, we read about how you were almost killed. We admire your heroism and your dedication to Edward and Patrick.”
“Thank you,” Mary said, though if Lavigne was trying to charm her, it hadn’t worked.
“It’s hard to know where to begin.” Lavigne placed his hands on either side of the manila folder.
“Begin at the beginning,” John said, with a tight smile.
“Okay.” Lavigne inhaled. “I dated Suzanne when she came to Penn State, almost from the first week of her freshman year. She got a job at my father’s restaurant and we liked each other, right away. I would say it was love at first sight.” Lavigne glanced over at his wife, Amanda, who smiled back at him.
“Go ahead, honey. You’re going to have to tell them everything.”
Lavigne nodded. “I had a rock band then, we played every night at my father’s restaurant. It was a bad period of time in my life. I was an addict. I was on heroin. I had been using since high school. I never enrolled in college. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Lavigne met Mary’s gaze evenly. “Maybe I do, I was thinking what every addict is thinking, which is where I get my next fix. Every addict’s story is the same. The drugs reduce you. They erase your individuality. You all do the same thing, every day, day after day, and you all become the same person.”
Mary nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“When I met Suzanne, she was smart and fun. She was also straight and motivated. She wanted to make something of herself. She was an individual.” Lavigne smiled briefly at the memory. “We got to be boyfriend and girlfriend. I knew she was too good for me, but there was no way I was going to stop using. She nagged me all the time, but I was functional. I thought we were doing fine. I never had any problem with denial.”
Mary listened, trying not to note the similarity in tone between his voice and Patrick’s, but it was undeniable.
“So she broke up with me. One day, she said, ‘I can’t do this, you’re an addict, and that’s never going to change.’ She dropped out of school, she asked me not to contact her, and I didn’t. I knew why she broke up with me, the whole band knew why she broke up with me. None of us hung on to any decent women because no decent woman would’ve put up with who we were.”
John interjected, “So she didn’t tell you she was pregnant before she dropped out of school?”
Lavigne shook his head. “No she didn’t tell me. She didn’t tell me before she left. She never told me.”
“Did she tell you why she was leaving school?”
“She said she wanted to transfer somewhere else. She wasn’t that happy at Penn State, she thought it was too big for her. Here, take a look at some of these pictures.” Lavigne opened the manila envelope, took out some photographs, and placed them in a line on the table, turning them around to face Mary. She looked over, recognizing Suzanne’s pretty and wholesome face from the photo that had been on Edward’s dresser. The other photos showed a grinning Suzanne with her arm around a younger Norm Lavigne, a sexy bad boy in a black leather jacket. Mary scanned the photos and could understand why Suzanne would be attracted to Lavigne, but also why it wouldn’t work.
John asked Lavigne, “Did you try to stay in touch with her?”
“No, I was high, constantly high. I fought with my parents, I was bugging them for money all the time. I blew it all on drugs. They let me play at the restaurant, that was my job. It’s a never-ending cycle, a nightmare. I lost everything, I lost Suzanne and any girlfriends after that. But then one day, my bass player died of an overdose. He was my best friend from when we both were kids.” Lavigne paused, swallowing visibly. “And that was when I bottomed out. I went to rehab. I relapsed but I went back again and finally I cleaned up for good. I found my faith. I’m six years clean and sober, not even tempted. I still go to meetings because I believe in the program and I sponsor three people right now. But I’ll never go back to using, ever again.”
Amanda patted his arm. “He’s an amazing man and an amazing husband, and I know he’ll make an amazing father.”
Mary felt her gut twist, but said nothing.
John asked, “Norm, would you submit to drug testing?”
“Of course.” Lavigne didn’t hesitate. “I would even agree to testing for a period of time, say, a full year. Whatever you and Mary need to feel comfortable.”
John blinked. “Good. To clarify, it’s your position that you didn’t know Patrick even existed?”
“It’s not my position, it’s the truth,” Lavigne answered, without rancor. “I had no idea I was a father until Lou came and knocked on my door. It blew me away. But I believe everything happens for a reason, and I think this was meant to be.”
John’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t attempt to contact Suzanne after you got clean?”
“No, I didn’t know she had passed, either. Lou told me that, too. That’s a tragedy.”
“You didn’t look her up on Facebook, anything like that?”
“No, why would I? I had moved on and I assumed she did too. She was someone I dated a long time ago.”
“So you had absolutely no idea she had a child?”
“I had no idea. I just didn’t know.” Lavigne gestured to his wife. “Amanda and I met when she hired me to design a website for her. She makes these really cool hand-knits with big needles, and her business just took off. I fell in love for good. We got married, and here we are.”
Mary sensed that what he was saying rang true, but it turned everything she had believed on its head. “Do you think that Suzanne told her parents that you were dead? Because I was told you were dead. Patrick believes you’re dead.”
Lavigne inhaled slowly, his mouth a grim line. “No, I don’t think Suzanne lied to her parents about me. She was close to both of her parents, and they were a great family. I think she told them the truth, and they all lied to Patrick. They told him I was dead, to protect him. I don’t even blame them. I get it.”
“Why do you ‘get it’?” Mary wasn’t sure she believed him. She could understand why Suzanne had made the decision she did, but it had denied Lavigne the chance to know his own child.
“While we were dating, she took me home to meet her parents. They didn’t like me in the least. They were right. I was bad news and they knew it. I remember her father took me aside in the kitchen, he knew I was on drugs. He told me if I wanted to be with his daughter, I had to quit.”
Mary could imagine the scene. Edward wouldn’t mince words.
Mary swallowed hard.
“Ten years ago, I wasn’t fit to be Patrick’s father. I wasn’t fit to be anybody’s father. There would have been no point in telling Patrick that I was alive, nothing but a world of hurt for that child.”
Mary thought that Lavigne’s assumption about what had probably happened made sense. She could easily imagine Edward and his wife taking care of Suzanne and the baby. They simply hadn’t anticipated that Suzanne would die, and now Edward.
Lavigne shook his head. “I wouldn’t have come forward for Patrick back then, even if Suzanne had told me we had a baby. I didn’t have a penny to my name and I couldn’t have supported a baby. Suzanne was the responsible one. I woulda let her take on all the responsibility she could handle, even more so. Typical addict behavior.”
John interjected, “So what do you do for a living?”
“It’s hard to get a job with a past like mine, but I’d always been good at art—”
Mary’s ears pricked up. Maybe Lavigne was where Patrick got his talent in art.
John interrupted, “Do you have a criminal record?”
“No, nothing like that,” Lavigne answered quickly. “But I don’t hide my addiction and that made it hard to get hired. Art doesn’t pay, and I wanted to make a living. So I went back to school for graphic design and now I own my own marketing company. We do web design, direct mail, and the like. I have for the past three years, and it’s doing very well. We have over $2 million in billings this year. We project growth for the next few years, I’m already planning to hire another coder. We have about twenty active clients, most of them corporate.”
Amanda interjected, “My business is really small compared to his other clients.”
Lavigne smiled. “But I like her the best.”
Lou laughed, but Mary didn’t. She didn’t know how she felt. It had been such a long day, and her thoughts were all over the lot. She believed Lavigne, but she wanted to research him and verify everything he’d told them. And she didn’t know what to do about the fact that he had appeared in Patrick’s life, out of the blue. She thought about what John had said. She had to make a decision.
“The name of my company is Lavigne Marketing, and I employ six people. We have an office in Wyncote, outside the city, and Amanda and I own our own home. We have four bedrooms, two baths. There’s a bedroom for Patrick.”
John glanced at Mary, but then returned his attention to Lavigne. “Norm, let us have your position. What is it you want, vis-à-vis Patrick?”
“I’m Patrick’s father. I’ll take a DNA test to prove it, but I know it by the timing. We were exclusive. At least she was.” Lavigne pressed his lips together, bitterly. “We’re in a position to take him and raise him. Amanda and I have discussed it and that’s what we want to do.”
Mary felt her chest tighten. “It’s not that easy. He has special needs. He has dyslexia and anxiety.”
Lavigne nodded. “Lou told me that, and I would love to know more about the details from you. Amanda and I discussed that, too, and we would be happy to take him on, just the same. He belongs with blood.”
“But you have to know what you’re getting into. You can’t just snap your fingers.” Mary heard the resentment edging her own tone, but didn’t hide it. “I’ve won the right to be his guardian and I’m enrolling him in a private school, Fairmount Prep near the Art Museum, because it can meet his academic and emotional needs. Your taking him would disrupt everything what’s set up for him.”
Lavigne shook his head. “It doesn’t have to. We’ll keep him in whatever school you think is necessary. If this is a school that he needs to be in, then he can stay there. We’ll take our cue from you. We’ll work with you in every way possible, on any timetable. You can transition him from your home into ours on whatever schedule is best for him. We can meet him and get to know him, and he can get to know us.”
Amanda nodded enthusiastically, her shiny hair bouncing. “Mary, I totally get what you’re saying, and I work from home. If I have to drive him to school in the morning, even into Philly, I’ll do that. My sister lives in the city, and I can do my knitting there, all day. And then I would take Patrick home, when school is over.”
Mary didn’t believe it. “You’re going to do that forever?”
“If that’s what it takes,” Amanda said, meeting her eye plaintively. “I used to commute in town for my old job, so I don’t mind. We don’t want to switch him out of a school that he needs. We’re not trying to disrupt his life, we’re just trying to make it better.”
“We can’t avoid talking about money. Even if his private school tuition is reimbursed throughout his school career, you need to know that he comes to you virtually penniless. Edward had left him a substantial estate, but if you saw the news, you know that Edward’s lawyer, James Geltz, and his stockbroker, Dave Kather, were running a Ponzi scheme at Cornerstone Financial. There’s no money left except in the bank account. Everything that was invested, all of Edward’s savings for Patrick, are completely gone.”
“We’re not coming forward for Patrick because of the money, so the fact that there’s no money doesn’t deter us. We can support him. We will make all the sacrifices that any other parents would, for his benefit.”
Mary looked from Amanda to Lavigne. “But there’s so much you don’t know about him, what he’s been through at school, even losing Edward. His life has been so difficult, even traumatic.”
“You’re right, we don’t know him, but we want to get to know him. You’ll fill us in. We’re all ears. We’ll help him deal with it. I’m a big believer in therapy, it saved my life. We’re big on talking about our feelings. We’ll encourage him to talk about his with us and with a therapist, if you think that’s a good idea.”
Mary couldn’t wrap her mind around it fast enough. “It’s so confusing for him. He just met my parents tonight and he gets along so well with older people. He’s comfortable around them because of Edward.”
Lavigne smiled, in an understanding way. “If he likes your parents, we have no problem with him seeing them wherever he wants to. We feel the same way about you, too. We’re inclusive folks, Amanda and I. To us, it’s all about Patrick. About what he needs and what he wants.”
John interjected, “So do you intend to go to court and be declared Patrick’s father?”
Lavigne nodded. “Yes. We called a lawyer today and that’s what we intend to do. He said that we should meet with you tonight and that things will go better if we can get on the same page.”
John frowned. “Your lawyer advised you to come here without him?”
“No, he wanted to come, too, but we wanted to come alone. We don’t think we’re on opposite sides. We believe in peace, not war. That’s what I’m saying. I think we all want the same thing, what’s best for Patrick.” Lavigne returned to Mary, his expression softening. “Mary, I know this comes out of left field for you.”
“Yes, it does,” Mary blurted out.
“It did for me, too.”
“And it will for Patrick.”
“I know.” Lavigne nodded. “Patrick and I may be father and son, but we’re also strangers. It’ll take some doing for us to get to know each other. I’ll do the work it takes to make that happen.” Lavigne smiled, tilting his chin up confidently. “We think we can offer Patrick something and we want to. We can give him a family, forever. His family.”
Mary knew the thing Patrick wanted most was a family, and she saw the conviction in Lavigne’s eyes, but she wasn’t ready to respond.
John answered for her. “How about we let Mary think it over and get back to you?”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
It was after midnight when Mary got home, shut the front door behind her, and twisted the d
eadbolt. Light spilling from the kitchen told her that Anthony was still downstairs, waiting up for her. She dropped her purse on the floor, kicked off her heels, and padded through the dining room to the kitchen.
An empty wineglass waited for her on the kitchen island next to a small plate that held shaved locatelli, oily green Ceregnola olives, and a bulb of fennel, her go-to late-night snack. Anthony wasn’t in sight, but the French doors that led to the backyard were open and she knew he was outside reading, which meant they were back to their favorite routine.
She went to the fridge, popped the rubber stopper off the Lambrusco, poured some bubbling into her glass, then put the wine back in the fridge and went outside with her glass and small plate. She stepped onto the patio and almost immediately felt herself relax.
The sky was as dark and soft as black velvet, even starry above the city lights. There was a slight breeze, its fresh snap signaling that autumn had finally arrived to stay. Anthony was sitting in one of their wrought-iron chairs reading on his e-reader, the soft glowing square reflecting upward on the handsome contours of a face she loved so well.
“Hi, honey.” Mary crossed to him, set the snack plate down on the small glass-top table between them, and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “That was nice of you to wait up. You must be exhausted.”
“I’m okay, I’m still in my time-zone warp.” Anthony set his e-reader on the table next to his wineglass, looking over at her with concern. “Well? Is it really his father?”
Mary sat down in her chair, forcing a smile. “All signs point to yes. Isn’t that what the Magic Eight Ball says?”
“Oh boy.” Anthony sighed, a quiet sound. “Wow.”
“Exactly.” Mary took a sip of her Lambrusco, which didn’t cheer her up, so she set the glass down. “And bottom line, I have a decision to make. But I’m not going to make it alone this time. Not anymore. We’re going to make it together.”
Damaged Page 39
